


Tell That Waiter He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:36:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4467335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick is a really picky eater, and Pete makes fun of him for it.  But, it's okay, because he's really hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell That Waiter He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today

**Author's Note:**

> this was just a dumb idea i had based on two experiences  
> the first one was when my friends and i went to spaghetti works and the waiter (named pete) laughed at me for getting chicken strips  
> the other time was literally every time i go to olive garden and get laughed at when i ask if i can order off the kids menu because i dont like anything on the real menu  
> its a hard life

Patrick is used to getting made fun of by his friends. Honestly, he can’t imagine anyone being a close friend if they don’t make fun of him. It would be kind of nice, but that’s life.

He gets made fun of the most when he goes out to eat.

Patrick (from what he’s heard) is just about the pickiest eater on the entire planet. It’s not _his_ fault his tongue finds almost everything revolting. And what’s wrong with getting chicken strips at every restaurant he goes too? They’re good.

But, his friends make fun of him for it anyways. Typical.

“Patrick, I’ll give you five bucks if you don’t order off the kids’ menu,” his friend, Brendon, says with an obnoxiously loud laugh from across the table. He rolls his eyes and looks over to the side to see his other friend, Gerard, snorting.

“If they give you crayons this time,” he chimes in, “can I have them?” That sends Brendon into a laughing fit, getting him some dirty looks from the adjacent table. Patrick doesn’t find it that funny.

“Ha ha,” he echoes dryly, giving them both a glare. “I don’t know why I keep you guys around.”

“Well,” Brendon begins, an irritating smirk working its way across his face, “I can’t say anything for Gee, but, I mean, look at me.” He pauses to make a gesture at his face. “I’m beautiful. No one could leave me.” Patrick and Gerard share a look that shows now they’re both questioning why he’s still their friend. Brendon starts examining the menu again, pretending like he can’t see them both silently judging him. Patrick doesn’t even bother to look at his menu. It’s not like he’s getting anything new.

“Dude, is our waiter fucking coming?” Brendon asks after a minute or two. The three of them look around. It _has_ been a pretty long time since they were seated. The place isn’t even that busy.

“Maybe they forgot about us,” Patrick offers, absentmindedly messing with the edge of his napkin. “Should we ask someo-”

“Nobody can forget about me,” Brendon cuts him off with another laugh.

“Maybe they’re saving themselves from the secondhand embarrassment of having to cook chicken strips for an eighteen year old,” Gerard says with the beginnings of a smirk pulling at his lips. Yeah, Patrick really needs some new friends.

“Is it really that funny,” he deadpans, exasperated. “Like, is it _really_ funny enough that you have to make fun of me every single t-”

“Hey, guys, sorry I took so long,” a voice cuts in from the end of the table. “Are you ready to order?”

Patrick’s head snaps around with an angry pout as he’s interrupted _again_ , but he wipes the look off his face as soon as he sees the waiter. He’s a guy who looks about their age, with dark, messy hair and an uninterested look on his face. Patrick is guessing that he just showed up to work five minutes ago, and he was probably late judging by the apron sloppily tied around his waist and the fact that his shirt is buttoned up unevenly. But, god, is he _cute_.

Patrick’s face instantly goes red as he realizes that he’s going to have to tell this guy he’s ordering off the goddamn kids' menu.

He takes Brendon and Gerard’s orders with barely even a word, but then he gets to Patrick, and his face noticeably brightens up. He actually asks Patrick what he’d like to have. Patrick barely notices his change in attitude however, because the embarrassment of what he’s about to do is ringing in his ears.

“Um… well…” As much as he wants to look at the waiter's face, he can’t force himself to make eye contact as he feels his face burning. But, he takes this as an opportunity to read his name tag. Pete, it says. God, he’s never been this intimidated by someone taking his order before. Not that he really ever has been intimidated by that, he’s pretty sure. “Can I just have chicken strips, like off the kid’s menu?” The words sound even more stupid than they usually do coming out of his mouth. He hears Pete’s pen scribbling on his pad of paper and finally gets himself to look up.

His heart speeds up when he sees a smile tugging on Pete’s mouth. He’s even cuter when he smiles. Pete finishes up writing the order down and shoves his pen into a random apron pocket. He looks back at Patrick, still smiling.

“The kids’ menu? Really?” he says, a laugh tinging his voice. Patrick can’t find it in himself to be mad at him. Instead he’s just really embarrassed.

“He’s literally five years old,” Brendon pipes up, winking at Patrick. Patrick makes a note to kill him later. Pete doesn’t even look at Brendon, but he let’s out a laugh. It’s the most beautiful thing Patrick’s ever heard.

“Same,” Pete snorts, his honey eyes crinkling. “I still get mad at my mom if she doesn’t buy the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.” Patrick laughs, and he hope it isn’t too hard. Pete doesn’t seem to mind however. He just gives Patrick a toothy grin and tells him that he’ll be back soon with their food.

“Dude!” Brendon exclaims as soon as Pete’s out of earshot, slamming his hands on the table. “He was flirting with you so hard!”

“He was,” Gerard adds, not even looking up from his phone. “That was the gayest thing I’ve seen this week.”

“W-what?” Patrick stutters, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Was it really that obvious?” Brendon rolls his eyes and gives him a nod. 

He’s definitely never been this anxious to get his chicken strips.

* * *

Brendon and Gerard continue to make fun of him for the rest of the time they’re there. Patrick can’t really blame them. He get’s all starry-eyed when Pete brings them their food, and laughs a little too loudly at everything he says, and then when he leaves Patrick is almost constantly looking around the restaurant to see if he can find him. But, at least they aren’t making fun of his dietary choices for once.

His heart is bursting again when Pete comes back with their checks. He can’t think of anything to say, and it seems like Pete doesn’t either, but they still exchange a smile. Brendon starts talking again once Pete leaves.

“Dude, you better ask him for his number now, or you’re never going to see him again.”

“He can literally just come back here,” Gerard says flatly before Patrick can open his mouth.

“Yeah, but what if he’s not working, or he quits, or something!” Gerard can’t argue with that, apparently.

“I’m not going to do that,” Patrick dismisses him, moving to open his bill. “I can’t just ask him for his numb-” Patrick gets cut off yet again, but this time it’s by himself. His mouth is left hanging open when he sees the slip of paper lying on top of his receipt with a phone number lazily scrawled onto it. He’s sure that his face is as red as the ketchup he dips his chicken strips in.

Brendon lets out a whistle. “Our little baby’s all grown up,” he coos, getting a glare from Patrick. He would give him a piece of his mind, but his head is too frazzled to come up with any words right now.

“Your boyfriend’s coming,” Gerard whispers teasingly, nudging Patrick with an elbow. Patrick doesn’t even think to snap at him as he scrambles to get his money out and slip the piece of paper into his pocket before Pete can get to their table.

He swears Pete is blushing. They smile at each other again as he collects all their bills and scurries off to get change. He’s back in no time and hands out everyone’s money. He looks like he’s about to walk off again before he turns to Patrick, his face definitely flushed.

“So, you’re gonna call me, right?” he asks, and Patrick’s feels his heart stop in his chest.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he answers, nodding a little bit too enthusiastically.

“I get off at 10.” All Patrick can manage to do is give him a shaky “okay”. Pete smiles lopsidedly and turns again, actually leaving this time.

Patrick has never been so thankful to be a picky eater.


End file.
